


Spring

by pinky_heaven19



Series: Seasons of Love [4]
Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 12:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2651675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinky_heaven19/pseuds/pinky_heaven19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spring is a season for keeping promises</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spring

It was going to be the first time in history that seasonal allergies weren't gonna kill me. It was the most beautiful day of the year so far and I'd gotten some great footage for my side film. The one I was officially working on was almost done, and I enjoyed filming random things for my personal projects. 

I'd finally upgraded to a better quality camera to work on my big projects, but I still prefered my old one for things like this beautiful day in Central Park. As a New Yorker, I felt like I didn't go there nearly enough, but I wanted to change that. So I'd spent the entire afternoon strolling lazily about it, filming anything that caught my attention and enjoying the warmth of the day. Winter was clearly gone, and I was thankful. 

After Roger got sick, I became a little paranoid about his overall health. Yes, more than I already was. 

A nice, famous art gallery was showing one of my films in the entrance hall to one of their exhibitions, and they were paying me good money for it. I was comissioned for another one for their next project, and I was finally able to relax a little about our income. 

This money allowed me to buy food. _Good_ food. I was shoving spinach and broccoli down Roger's throat any chance I could. We could have meat more than a couple of times a month, now. I was becoming really good in seasoning it and cooking it to a burn, just the way both Roger and I liked it. 

Things were good, and I would be whistling if I knew how to when I exited the park through a side exit. I had chosen this particular route because of what I knew I would find there. What I saw made me smile.

A group of people was circling Roger, who was playing his guitar and singing softly and beautifully to a famous, catchy tune. I could barely see him, but I would recognize that voice anywhere. I stood back, thought about taking my camera out but decided against it. I shouldn't be enjoying this moment through a camera lens. 

After a few minutes Roger stopped playing, thanked the people and said he'd call it a day. It was only then that he saw me. He smiled widely.

– I was watching you and you play very well – I told him.

– Thanks – he said, his brow furrowed in confusion.

– How long have you been playing the guitar?

– What are you talking ab...oh – he said, catching up to my little game – A few years, actually. 

– You're very talented.

– Thanks. What's your name?

– Mark. Listen, how much would you charge for a private session at my place?

– Dinner and a blowjob.

I snorted, shaking my head.

– Well, you're cheap – I said, and he started packing his guitar with a smile on his face – But you have a deal.

– Let's go, then – he said, and we started walking. It was a long walk to our place but we enjoyed the exercise. 

– How much did you make today?

– Enough to buy you a late Christmas present. Very late. 

– What? A present?

– Well, I've been saving and I think I might have enough now.

– You don't have to buy me presents. We have to buy a new shower curtain, not a present. 

– Well, you can buy the shower curtain with your money if you want, but you're still getting your present – he said, and I had to start walking faster to catch up to him and his long stride. 

– Well, what is it? 

– You don't know the concept of a present, do you? Half the fun is in the surprise – he smirked.

– Give me a hint. 

– It's something I think you'll like.

– Why would you even give me something you think I wouldn't like? 

– Jesus, if I knew you were going to be this bitter about it I wouldn't have bothered with this idea in the first place.

– Sorry, sorry – I said, and I held his hand. He looked at me and smiled. After a few seconds of silence, I continued – When am I going to get it?

– I'll try to buy it tomorrow. 

– I'm curious, now. 

– Good. 

We walked in silence for more than ten minutes. I could see some people staring at us, holding hands, but I honestly didn't care. Roger didn't seem to be phased at all as well, and I felt grateful that he wasn't ashamed. I had been in one homosexual relationship before this and felt comfortable with it, but I knew it was something new for Roger. I should have known he was gonna ace it. 

– You know what you should do? - I asked, and he mumbled a “huh?” - You should write me a song.

– Write you a song? - he mused.

– Yeah.

– Well it would be a disaster. Nothing rhymes with Mark. Maybe bark, park, arche or maybe embark. 

– See? You have many things to work with.

– You don't see me asking you to make me a movie. 

– Well, I have tried to film you, but you're camera shy. 

– I said make _me_ a movie, not a movie _about_ me. I don't have to be in it. 

– I'll think about it.

Later that night he sang me a song. It wasn't his, he never sang those, but it was for me. And I paid him what I owed, gladly. 

I had completely forgotten about the present until a few days later when he showed up with a box in his hands. I had just woken up from a nap and was feeling terrible. After a frustrating night of editing that led me nowhere, I finally caved in and slept for a few hours. It was almost noon and I was starving. 

When he entered with the box in his hands, I immediately linked it to our conversation.

– Is that...?

– No! Don't look! I still have to wrap it – he said, hiding it behind him.

– You don't have to wrap it – I said, walking towards him – Just give it to me.

– No. Go for a walk, be back in 20 minutes.

– Roger, it's my present, let me see it – I said, reaching for his hands behind his back.

– It's not yours yet. Go, grab some flavored condoms because we're out. 

– Are you serious?

– Yes. _Go_.

So I did. I took the time to actually buy the condoms. I wasn't paranoid about him contaminating me through oral sex, but it was the only way he agreed to it, so I couldn't complain. When I came back, he was sitting on the table with a huge grin on his face, my present next to him. He'd wrapped it with old newspaper and had made a bow with a piece of green ribbon. 

– Merry belated Christmas. 

– This looks really nice – I said, admiring the perfect creases.

– I once worked in a toy store as a wrapper. You should see me wrap a bike. 

I quickly opened it, tearing the paper but careful to keep the ribbon bow intact. It was a plain cardboard box with no indication of what could be inside, but it wasn't light. What was inside made my jaw drop. 

A real, honest to God, professional photography camera. 

– Roger, are you serious? How could you even buy this? - I said, rolling it in my hands and admiring it.

– It's a used camera, okay? But the guy I bought it from swore to me it was in perfect condition. I always thought you'd be an amazing photographer, you have an eye for this sort of thing. 

– This is amazing, thank you! - I said, and found two rolls of film and a couple of lenses in the bottom of the box, carefully involved in bubble wrap. 

– You deserve it. For everything you do for me. 

– I don't. But this is... wow – I said, already putting the film inside and ready to test it. 

– The guy couldn't find the manual, but I'm sure you'll figure out how to use it on your own.

And I did. In less than a minute the film was inside and I snapped my first picture. Of course it was Roger's.

– You'll have to let me take pictures of you – I said. 

– I will. I want to take a few with you, as well. 

– I can set the timer right now. 

– No, let me shave first and put on a clean shirt. I look terrible. 

He did not. He looked breath-taking, as always, but I didn't argue. He did as he said, later that evening he let me take a few pictures and we took a couple of them together. I couldn't wait to get them developed so I could see the results. 

By the end of the week I had them done and compiled them in a photo album. 

– Here – I said, and handed it to him after we laid on bed late at night.

– Oh, let's see – he said, and I watched his facial expressions while he flipped through the photos. He grimaced in ones, and smiled in others.

– I like this one – he pointed at the first picture I had taken of him. 

– It's my favorite, too – I said. He wasn't smiling in it, but his lips gave a hint of amusement and his eyes sparkled. He had stubble and he needed to run a comb through his hair, but he looked perfect.

– I want you to use this one – he said, gravely.

– Use this one for what? - I asked, confused. He looked away – Oh.

He wanted me to use it as the picture in his funeral.

– I can't use this one – I said, trying to make light of it – You'll look too young in this, I'll have to take many more over the next few years.

– I hope so – he said, and sighed.

– Is something wrong? - I asked, concerned. 

– I got the results of my exams today – he said, and I swallowed dry.

– And?

– My T cells are lower than usual. Not dangeroulsy low, but lower than when I left the hospital a few months ago. 

– I see – I said, and now I was the one not being able to face him – Is this why you're letting me take all these pictures? For me to have something to remember you?

– Partly. Partly because I'm a handsome lad and the world shouldn't be taken the privilege of staring at my face for many years to come.

I smiled in spite of myself.

– I'm sorry if I made you sad – he said, and he touched my face, making me face him – I wasn't gonna say anything but I knew you'd eventually ask and go crazy that I hid it from you.

– It's fine, I want to know those things.

He sighed.

– Mark, I'm doing my best, okay? I feel good, I feel healthy, and I feel happy. Because of you. Sometimes I'm afraid you don't know how much I feel about you. 

– I do. I know.

– You can't possibly know. If I could show you, give all my love to you, I could justify myself, but I'm just not coming through. You have no idea. You're...you're a pill to ease my pain. 

– Roger...

– No, listen – he said, and he sat in front of me – Ever since I found out about this damn disease, I have this clock ticking in my head. A big, pendulum clock. I feel like it was ticking faster than it should, but now it's not. You're like an anchor on the line of this clock that tells the time that is running out. 

I felt overwhelmed with feelings, so I just hugged him, clinging to him. I didn't say that I loved him, and he didn't say it to me either. We didn't need it. Words diminish feelings.

– Now – he said, letting me go – You keep pulling this pendulum down because I'm not going anywhere soon. 

– I'll make sure of that – I said, and he smiled and kissed me. 

– Let's sleep – he said, and we both laid down, turning off the lamp. The city was noisy under us, but we left the window open anyway.

– Hey, Roger?

– Hum?

– Will you let me film you as well?

– Don't push it.

– You're the one who wanted a movie for you.

– Only if you entitle it: Roger is the best and I love him. 

– It wouldn't be a lie. But you'd have to let me film you naked – I teased.

– You'd have to pay for that.

– Is a dinner and a blowjob good enough?

– It's a start – he said, and I could hear the smile on his voice. 

I felt his hand reaching for mine and I grabbed it tightly. 

– You know, you really kept your promise – I said.

– What promise?

– The one you made last summer. I really never regretted that kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this series! It was my first in this fandom and I really enjoyed writing it ;)


End file.
